This weekend, I lived an introverted homebody’s nightmare: I went to the Bronx Zoo on a beautiful holiday weekend with six kids, and I went to the mall afterward to get new shoes for Two, who is the most indecisive shoe shopper I have ever met. Perhaps that’s one reason why she has only one pair of shoes.

Many times, I get so caught up in needing everything to be just right before I get started, that I never actually do anything meaningful.

Sometimes, though, I can make a quick decision to go for it, and somehow circumvent that mental process that likes to line up the ducks until whatever opportunity I was lining them up for has passed. This weekend was one of those times.

My parents gifted us a Bronx Zoo family membership that expires at the end of this month. We had already been able to take the kids 2-3 other times this year, but I hoped to be able to go one more time. This weekend, Memorial Day Weekend, is when it worked to come down to visit my parents on Long Island, and make a day trip to the zoo.

Somewhere in my head I knew it had the potential to be a nightmare. And small parts of it were. The day was hot, and the zoo more crowded that I’ve ever seen it, and with so many kids in tow, everyone had their moments. When the baby gorilla was slamming itself against the glass, there was a mass of people 4 or 5 rows thick in between us and the glass. When we checked out the Monorail, we were told a two hour wait.

But my mom and I had brought lots of food, and everyone was on their best behavior most of the time. Despite the heat and the crowds, we had a good time and got to see a different section of the zoo than we saw on our last trip. We found a tent with live music and free Peruvian food samples to take a break in to eat our lunch.

Towards the end of the day, my mom treated everyone to one of the best treats you can get on a hot day – and something our family does in Tobago, as well: she bought overpriced, refrigerated bottled water to refill our empty water bottles. There’s something instantly satisfying about it, and for frugal folks like us, feels decadent. It had an immediate effect and I credit the cold water with getting us back to our car in one piece.In planning the rest of the weekend, it came to pass that the evening after the trip to the zoo was the only time it would work to take Two for shoes. My goose was already cooked long before we left for the mall, and by the third shoe store, my eyes were bleeding at the prices and Two hadn’t seen anything she liked that didn’t have a heel.

At the third store, right away I saw a pair that had Two’s name on them – and they were 50% off. Name brand, unique color. The ingredients to make Two, her older brother (who helps Two make important fashion decisions, especially regarding shoes), and me all feel like winners.

She tried them on, and then started to dither. It’s a well worn path. She asked to see another pair, but the second pair weren’t as comfortable. Most of the associates at the store had already pegged us for cheapskates and gave us a wide berth. But one kind young man helped us out.

It may only have been the second pair of shoes in the third store, but I know my girl. We could have tried on 28 pairs of shoes in 7 different stores and each one would be lacking something. She is my kid, after all. So I gently steered her back to those clearance sneakers that fit well and suited her, to avoid any more time in the valley of indecision.

She went for it. She wore them out of the store since the pair they were replacing are a wreck. Three times in quick succession after we left the store, one or both shoes came untied. I was tired. Seven was on my back, and Two and Three, who had come along for the ride, were asking me questions incessantly so my brain couldn’t spend any time on autopilot. And autopilot is something I desperately wanted.I wondered if encouraging her to pick those shoes had been the wrong choice. I wondered if I was going to have to reteach her how to tie shoes, since I discovered at the store that she does it a different (and what I consider inferior) way that comes undone more easily.

In other words, a lot of parts of today weren’t perfect.

The trend continued into the evening, when I struggled to get all the kids to bed, even with my parents’ help. Six, in particular, is a challenge, especially when we are away from home, with Seven a close second. I was covered with a layer of grime from the Boogie Down Bronx, and just wanted to brush my teeth and shower. I thought, if I could just get everyone to bed, I could those things in peace.

Then I realized how silly that was. I brushed my teeth. It felt so amazing that I asked my oldest to watch my youngest while I went and took a shower, too. He nodded his assent, and when I stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, no one was crying.

There was some crying later, from multiple sources. In fact, I’m not completely certain everyone is asleep even now, but I am clean and it feels amazing. I could have waited late into the evening, feeling disgusting, disgruntled, and exhausted, waiting for the right time to slip off and take care of myself. In fact, I did that last night, and it was the pits.Regardless of what your life looks like, the right time may never come. Especially the right time to take care of yourself. Or the time to do something adventurous.

If I had waited till a better time for the zoo trip, our membership would have already expired. And if I wanted to wait till I could take a shower in peace… well, Shel Silverstein wrote a poem about that.

I’m sure I’m not the only person who does this, biding my time until the conditions are perfect. It seems to be most dangerous when you have a moment of free time. Why do I check my email or go on social media? Because a moment of peace seems too short to pick up the book I’m reading and get through another page or two.

I don’t want to work on a sewing project unless I have the time to fully immerse in it. I don’t want to sit down to write unless I know I’ll have some uninterrupted time. I don’t want to let myself get sucked into something I enjoy only to get dragged out again by a child who needs something “urgently.”

There is no perfect time. It doesn’t exist. So relentlessly pursue the adventure you want and take a moment to do small things that make you feel better, whether it’s the basics, like a meal or a shower, or something a little more “frivolous,” like reading for pleasure or some other activity you enjoy.

Whether you just do it, or you wait for the Right Time, things are never going to be exactly what you wanted. So you end up choosing between doing the thing now and maybe not doing it at all, or reducing the benefit of doing it because you waited so long.

This is a lesson I’m still learning daily. Instead of making the ducks line up like I want them to, letting those ducks wander around in a field or flop around distractedly on their backs while staring at their flipper feet can lead to some interesting and unforgettable experiences. Or maybe, it will just result in better oral hygiene.